Nicole's Note: While these stories are fantastical, the kind of behavior shown by the villains of the story sadly is not. As with all kinds of kink play, hypnosis can be abused, and you should be careful if you meet people who act anything like Nurse Poppy in real life. Likewise, we here at GigglingGoblin Inc. also do not endorse the use of cooking equipment on medical personnel.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was quite warm in this cottage—and humid, too. The sitting room was almost a little hazy, but at least it was cozy.
Larya stared dizzily between the two nurse's apprentices, who had settled down into the chair on either side of her, squeezing her between their buxom, soft, warm bodies.
They smelled nice. Sweet. Almost a bit like fresh milk.
"Um." She bit her lip, looking at Nessi, then at Cetti. "I think. I think I..."
"Wanna hear
more
about how we help Nurse Poppy?" offered Nessi, resting her chin on Larya's shoulder, her cute face and bright eyes almost irresistible—puppydog eyes. Her fingers slipped down, and Larya felt her skirt ride up slightly.
"Ooh!" Larya squirmed, blushing hot. "I, um. Yes!" She turned to stare helplessly at Cetti, who was very faintly rubbing against the druid, all-but humping her. The nurse smiled up at her, the picture of the absolute bimbo with his shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, big ditzy blue eyes, and—she could feel—hard, needy cock pressing against her thigh. "Maybe, um," she whimpered, "show me?"
Cetti giggled. He leaned in and nibbled her jawline, his lips plump and soft, his tiny, teensy whines unbearably arousing. Larya squeaked.
"I mean, like..." She shivered as the other nurse started delicately kissing the back of her neck. Nessi was getting dangerously close to an erogenous zone that would render Larya a whining mess in mere seconds, begging to be owned by these two bimbos. She had to think fast. "You c-cook, right? Show me the kitchen? Dears?" Remembering how Poppy had handled the apprentices, Larya batted her eyelashes suggestively.
It worked. Immediately, their little play paused, and they both leaped to their feet. "Ooh, yes!" squealed Nessi, taking Larya by the hand. "Like, it's super cool! We cook and clean and—"
"—and entertain guests," Cetti added, giggling and taking her other hand, "and, like, lots of useful stuff!"
Larya smiled, her relief overshadowing her disappointment. Horny as she was, she didn't want to be getting her brains fucked out while Alrek was in the other room having his brains... un-fucked. Aside from being disrespectful, it would be embarrassing as hell later.
Even if it would feel so, so good to let these two ditzy apprentices... have her for a while. They were so affectionate, and so needy, and
so
good at making her feel all warm and melty and... and, um...
She shook herself slightly. But that would be bad, she reminded herself. Very, very bad.
So determined to keep control, Larya allowed the two to lead her, practically bouncing in their excitement (and Nessi had such nice, bouncy boobies, and Cetti's butt was so curvy and lovely and soft and wiggled with every step), to the kitchen.
Even as she was passing through the doorway, though, a voice rang out. Poppy's voice—the healing mage's tone as dulcet and sweet as always, clicking with a thick accent Larya still couldn't quite place. "Oh, Nessi! Nessi, Nurse Poppy needs you, sweetie!"
And with a smile as bright as the dawn, Nessi kissed Larya on the cheek—Larya was too startled to even respond—and pranced away to help her mistress.
Leaving Larya alone with Cetti.
She stared at the boy bimbo. He giggled up at her, holding up a bowl. "Wanna chocolate?"
~ ~ ~ ~
Alrek was drifting in loving touches, strokes, headpets, and pure, thick sugar magic.
He felt so sleepy. Impossibly sleepy. But he wasn't allowed to nod off. Wasn't... allowed. Wasn't able. The magic was keeping him in a constant state of half-dreaming, and so he drifted as Nurse Poppy stroked and praised and petted her good patient, her good boy.
Some part of him was still unsure about all of this. Galled by how Nurse Poppy stroked his hair, even though it felt so nice. Indignant at that patronizing way she cooed at him, that indulgent note in her voice. And worried. Worried that he was losing control.
But this was how healing worked, wasn't it? He stared dimly up at Nurse Poppy, a statuesque woman with brilliant scarlet hair and ruby-red lips curved upward in a loving smile. A plain but flattering nurse's cap topped her head, the pale red cross seeming almost... pink in this light. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, bedroom eyes affixed on him, almost seductive in their intensity. Her fingernails, painted such a pretty red, tapped and stroked along his face and the back of his head, filling his mind with fuzz. Fuzzy magic. That was how healing magic worked. You had... had to be
willing
.
Right?
Her whispers certainly suggested it, endless crackling whispers sending tingling sensations through his whole body as she encouraged him, praised him, reminded him of how much
better
he was feeling already...
He barely noticed as a new voice joined the first, this one bubbly and sweet and musical. He barely noticed, even, a new set of touches, a new hot body pressed against his right side.
Because Nurse Poppy was on his left side, seated right beside his head, and her beautiful, angelic face was all he could see.
Well. Not quite all.
He'd given up on not staring at her lovely, jiggling tits.
He couldn't be faulted. They were right above him, like a vision from a dream. So beautiful.
His eyelids felt so heavy. Those breasts were just so pretty and... bouncy. So shiny in the light from above. They looked so soft, narrowly squeezed together in that tight nurse's crop top. And they were
still
right above him. He could practically smell them, sweet and musky. Could practically feel them, warm, smooth pillows, pressed against his face, smothering him as he drifted out of time...
"You're doing
so
well," Nurse Poppy purred, and Alrek's head spun with the warmth in her voice, the glow in her touches that was steadily pouring into him. Healing him. Fixing him. "I'm making you all
better
, dear. Isn't that nice?"
His eyelids were like leaden weights, lost on those... leaden weights. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.
She giggled. They jiggled every time she giggled. She patted him on the head—he wanted to be annoyed about that, but it was very difficult when it was so hard to manage negative emotions at all. So hard not to just feel nice. "Very good," she whispered. "Isn't that nice? Isn't it feeling so nice?" She stroked his hair. "You feel
safe
here, don't you?"
Vaguely, he noticed the warm body on his other side reaching over him, pulling something across his chest. He heard a
click
. It didn't matter, though he felt like it should. But it was hard to convince himself
anything
mattered more than feeling better. And he felt so, so much better, didn't he?
"Ooh, Nurse Poppy," burbled a voice that didn't matter, no matter how nice it felt with those plush lips brushing against his right ear, "he's so
cute
like this! Look at his cock!
Mmm
..."
"Silly girl," cooed Nurse Poppy, reaching over. He didn't see what she was doing, though, because her leaning over that far—making the new voice gasp and whimper like a happy puppy—meant her wonderful tits swung directly overhead. His thoughts melted a little at that. "Finish binding him so you can go back to making your new friend!"
Nurse Poppy's eyes returned to his as she leaned back. She smirked down at him, indulgent as ever—but strangely smug, for some reason. "You're doing
so
very well," she breathed, as he dimly felt more straps over him, heard more faint clicks. "We're almost done." Her fingers entwined through his hair, and he felt so nice and dizzy from her sweet touches, it was almost unbearable. "Isn't that
good
news? Aren't you glad?"
He nodded slightly, not trusting himself to speak. He hoped it wasn't obvious how he was staring at her tits, because he wasn't sure he could stop.
"Of course you are," she purred, petting him fondly. He squirmed; something about her tone, about her touches, felt like... like she was treating him like... "Just like you're a